


Winter

by TakisAngel



Series: Her Kind (HWD Event) [4]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Culture, Flashbacks, Gods, Human AU, Implied Death, Mountains, Multiple Husbands, Mystical, Other, Polygamy, Random Characters - Freeform, Rural, Spirits, Tibet, female polygamy, polandry, tibetan, tibetan culture, tibetan practices
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-03
Updated: 2018-08-03
Packaged: 2019-06-21 04:47:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15549927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TakisAngel/pseuds/TakisAngel
Summary: Dehen is traveling up a mountain to see if the shrine and the spirits can answer her moral dilemma of gaining a new husband, her other 3 husbands' brother, despite the fact he’s 15 and she’s 7 years older then him. (Deals with traditional Tibetan polyandry, more explanation in notes.)





	Winter

It was cold on the mountain, her feet complained. Her shoes were worn and old, passed down from Dehen’s mother, but they fulfilled their jobs just the same, with a bit of creaking here and there. Up, up the mountain she continued, her dress brushing with a mash of snow and dirt and her apron becoming stained from the offering she was holding in her hands. What depraved man thought that putting a shrine on the top of a hill was a good idea?!  
The Tibetan mother grumbled, wishing her children were old enough to carry the offering for her and lift the load off her back, but the daughters and one, beautiful son were still only 7 years of age at most. At least she got some peace in quiet, Dehen grumbled. Her husbands should be able to handle them. After her mind touches the memory of her three husbands, all brothers, she jerked it to a stop. The reason she was climbing this mountain with the blasted cold offering in her hands was to avoid thinking about that. To receive one blessing or other from the mountain. If she had to hear one more word about the new marriage from her mother in law, she would scream.  
It shouldn’t have troubled her. She and her first husband, her childhood sweetheart no less, had gotten married when they were 15, the same age as her new groom to be. Sure, it had been 7 years ago, but it wasn't all that different, was it? Her friend had gotten married to a younger man a few years ago, this was no different. It was the tradition that the brothers of the family all take the same wife, lest the land be split up amongst a bunch of sons and competing wives. Her mother in law was simply following that tradition; now that her youngest son was of marriageable age, he should go the same way as his 3 brothers and marry Dehen.  
It started to snow, breathes of frozen water falling onto the mountain path and making it a bit slicker. The mountain was quiet, foreboding. Dehen’s felt that its mind as well was stumbling with the problems of the earthly realms, an overbearing mother in the sky and screaming children in the boulders. She promised to bring the mountain spirit an offering on her way down.  
Tenzin, her 2nd husband, had been the one to suggest she go to the shrine. He seemed to sense that she was unsettled, off in a way a silent newborn was off, or a new taste in a familiar dish. He was always the kind one, taking care of her, bringing her tea. It didn’t take long for him to win her heart, though she loved all of them.  
Her first husband, Niyama, was off these days as well. He scowled more, yelled at the children and scoffed at the notion he was behaving incorrectly. His ego had taken a toll when each of his brothers started living in his house and raising all of their collective children, but it was never this terrible. Perhaps the thought of his little brother with his wife was troubling to him as well.  
The third, and often, last man, was silent. Dolma was always silent. During their wedding, the night after. He was a strong figure, yes, but he studied everyone and never made a sound beyond “pass me the food.” He was the most unnerving to marry so far, but he wasn’t terrible. She knew that one of the daughters was his, but she would ever tell which. It struck her that he wouldn't be a very doting father.  
Who knows what that frustrating man thought of his brother entering his marriage. She’d probably find out when the sky fell down.  
In the beginning, she had taken his silence as a challenge. The hard shell was to be broke, she had sworn, and she spent day after day and night after night trying to break his silence. It was fun, in a way. She spent more time with Dolma than all of the others, watched him do chores, asked for his advice on her cooking and grinned at him often. Yet all she got for her efforts was a few smiles and a daughter. By now she had given up, and then he seemed to fade into the background behind Niyama’s charm and Tenzin’s kind smile.  
She left her mind in those memories as the snow flew down, the ice mountain slick and the shrine ringing its bells in the wind once she dragged her feet to the top. Come to me, it seemed to ring. Dehen sighed and followed its order, dropping her offering in the prescribed bowl and muttering a quick prayer. With a few words describing her predicament, she waited for the skies and boulders and mountains to offer advice, but little came. A look at the sky showed a mix of wind and snarls, thundering down. She blinked. When did it get this bad?  
Her hands were shaking now, her body still a bit frail from the baby a year ago, and her sandals felt oiled as she started to walk down. The storm grew fiercer and fiercer, and mountain spiriting narrowing its eyes at is a forgotten gift left at the shrine. She should have given it to it at the foot of the mountain, the wind whispered. Dehen couldn’t listen as she was focusing on not losing her step. Down, down the mountain she walked, mind now clear in the face of possible danger. She remembered the question she left at the shrine as she fled.  
_Mountain spirit, I’m marrying a boy named Gyatso by the next full moon. He’s 15, and I’m 23 years. I’ve helped him learn how to handle a cow and run through fields._  
The wind grew heavier now, her hair blocking her face and her messy apron far from the mushy gray snow, up in the air.  
_He’s like a brother to me. I love him very much, he’s an adorable child. Very hard working dedicated, innocent._  
Her sandals were slipping, and she stumbled upon a shard of ice. Her breaths were shorter now, and her legs burned. Her children needed dinner.  
_But he’s like my brother. He’s a child. I can’t marry him. It feels...wrong. I know tradition says I must._  
Dinner, she thought when her toe was stubbed and her hair blew in front of her face, Her children needed dinner. And Tenzin needed her, and Niyama wanted her help to decide the crops next year. Dolma was helping her with the finances today.  
_But I can’t. There has to be another way. I can’t lay with him._  
She was halfway down the mountain when she fell over a scratchy branch, the rocks jabbing into her skull and itchy plants burying into her dress. She tasted blood.  
_His mother wants me to lay with him, she wants another grandson. My husbands, I fear grow jealous of him, and I don’t know what they might do. There would be blood on the streets if I said no, with her temper._  
She lied on the path, nails digging into her skins and tears leaking out. She must have angered the spirits somehow, god, why would they do this to her?! She had to see her children! She stumbled to her feet and tried to continue walking, but her leg was bleeding and her breaths were shallow. The wind pushed her down, to lean against a tree. Still, she got up again and walked down the path, determined to make it home, determined to make it though, She would see her husbands again, she would see her children again. She wasn’t going to die here.  
_I hate this situation. I don’t know what to do. I tried convincing her to let him become a monk but she won’t listen._  
A flash later, and she was thrown against the boulders, heat fizzling where the light left. Rain sleeted down along with the snow. She sat in near the boulders, blood flowing faster from her leg and her apron red. She hid beside the rocks, hands over her head, waiting for the storm to pass as the world started to grow hazy. In those last few moments, she couldn’t place her husbands’ names.  
_Please, find a way to fix my problem. Make it go away._  
The rocks no longer felt hard, but like a bed to rest on. Dehen went to sleep in the storm.  
_Please, just make the whole thing go away._  
The world went dark as the mountain completed her wish.

**Author's Note:**

> A few historical notes here: in some parts of Tibet, it was common practice for a family of brothers to marry the same woman, in a form of polygamy. It could be from 2 to any number of men, but all children produced in the marriage were treated as brother and sisters, and since the mother kept the secret of who the father was, every husband acted as the father to all children. Even if its a bit obvious who the father is (Dad #1 leaves for Lhasa for a month leaving Dad #2 alone with the wife, comes back a months later and then a baby comes 9 months sorta situation) all children were treated equally, no favoritism was allowed. This form of polygamy is still practiced in some places in Tibet, since it was a good way to keep all the land in the family!


End file.
